After I Torched Alive, My Alpha Went crazy novel Chapter 66

"She’s going to pay for this," I said, my voice low but fierce. "I won’t let her get away with it. I’m putting her in jail."

Carlos nodded, his expression just as cold and determined. "She won’t escape this. I’ll make sure she faces the consequences."

As I looked back at Cyrus, now sleeping peacefully, the worst behind him, I felt my resolve harden. I wouldn’t let anyone—especially not Sienna—hurt my son again. She would regret ever crossing me, and this time, there would be no escape.

Carlos drove us home in silence, his hands steady on the wheel, eyes focused on the road ahead. Cyrus sat in the backseat, leaning his head against the window, still looking pale but calmer after everything that had happened. The soft hum of the car’s engine filled the space between us, but the tension from the events earlier lingered in the air. My thoughts were a jumble, still processing how close I had come to losing Cyrus—and how Sienna had deliberately put him in harm’s way.

"Mama?" Cyrus’s small voice broke through my thoughts, and I turned to face him. His eyes were wide, filled with worry, and his lips trembled as he spoke. "I didn’t mean to get sick."

My heart clenched at the sadness in his voice. He wasn’t just scared; he felt guilty, like somehow this was his fault. "Oh, baby," I whispered, twisting in my seat to reach for his hand. "This isn’t your fault. Not at all. You didn’t do anything wrong."

Carlos’s hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel as he glanced at Cyrus through the rearview mirror. There was a flicker of pain in his eyes, a kind of deep sadness I hadn’t seen in him before. His voice was calm, but I could hear the emotion underneath. "Cyrus, it’s not your fault. None of this is."

Cyrus nodded, but the look in his eyes didn’t completely fade. It was as if he was still carrying the weight of something much larger than he should. Carlos and I exchanged a brief glance, his concern mirroring my own.

Without any preamble, Carlos spoke up, his tone decisive. "Grace, I think you and Cyrus should stay with me for a while."

His words took me by surprise. "What? Carlos, we can’t—"

"It makes sense," he said, his voice calm but firm. "Cyrus is still recovering, and I can keep an eye on him. I don’t want to take any chances. I can provide him with the care he needs, and it’ll be easier if you’re both at my house."

I opened my mouth to argue, but the logic of it was undeniable. Cyrus needed someone who could monitor him closely, and Carlos had been there for him in ways I couldn’t have imagined. It wasn’t just about the care—there was a bond forming between them, one that I didn’t fully understand but knew was important.

A maid appeared at the entrance to greet us, her smile polite and professional. Carlos gestured toward her as we walked inside. "If you need anything, just ask her. She’ll help you get settled. And it’s a big place, so… don’t get lost. Ask her to follow you if you’re moving around the house."

I nodded, still trying to take it all in. "Okay. Thank you."

Carlos gave me a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He looked tired—more tired than I had ever seen him. "Come on, let me show you your rooms."

As we followed Carlos down the hallways, each more impressive than the last, I couldn’t help but notice how carefully everything was designed. Every piece of furniture, every painting on the walls seemed handpicked to fit the space perfectly. And yet, despite all the luxury, there was an odd sense of comfort here.

Finally, we reached the rooms. Carlos opened the door to Cyrus’s room first, and when I stepped inside, I felt my breath catch. It was a child’s dream—a room perfectly tailored to Cyrus’s tastes.